


Building a Mystery

by Barb G (troutkitty)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:20:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troutkitty/pseuds/Barb%20G
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Krycek in a night with no words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Building a Mystery

**Author's Note:**

> Title song and general theme stolen along with the boys from Sarah. Thanks to Ruth for everything and Luminosity for beta'ing it again.

He only came at night.

It wasn't because of me. It wasn't because the night was the time I felt vulnerable. It wasn't because I could only accept him in the dark. It wasn't because I needed him at all.

It was because of the night itself. He drew his power from it. During the day he was weak, another man's belonging, another man's tool. By morning I had already lost him even if he did spend the night. During the day we were enemies. We had to be. He had no choice, and I didn't offer him one.

At night he was a different animal. We didn't speak. What was there possibly left to say?

*I want you. I need you. Stay. How could you...*

I hated him because he killed my father. I hated him because he killed Melissa. I hated him because he saw every day what I risked my life only to catch fleeting glimpses of. He worked for the bastards who hid in the very absence of light that Krycek fed off of, yet those same bastards expected him to be their slave when the sun shone. It made me furious that he was so used.

He didn't speak to me about any of it. He came to me and I smelled the moldy old secrets and oily new ones on him. I watched him wash them off with the blood from his skin. It was part of the reason he loved his silence. No questions, no answers. Just us. We didn't give of ourselves. We accepted what was offered and tried not to share too much.

He was here. There was no change in the room to tell me he entered it. No sound, no motion, no shape. I suddenly became aware of him watching me for at least a dozen heartbeats. He could have vanished, and left me in the night alone and shattered, and I would never have known he had been there in the morning. I could have been dreaming it all up now. I lay perfectly still, and hoped my breathing didn't give away that I knew he was here. If he knew I sensed him, I knew he wouldn't return. I closed my eyes and wished that he would make himself apparent. It was almost a prayer. Only Krycek could have driven me to religion. He knew this, but still he remained out of sight, out of touch. His terms, not mine.

Never mine.

It had been two weeks since the last time he came to me like this. He had appeared at my side and I had accepted him into my bed. There was a full moon out that night. The pregnant light had almost been enough to drive him away. No light meant no shadows, and Krycek hated his. A shadow could only be cast with light, and he was wary of me seeing too much.

The moon had provided enough light the last time that I watched him watching me as I stripped off the sweats I wore to bed. A normal lover would have made some comment on how ridiculous they were, but he said nothing. His eyes hadn't left me for a moment. From the shadows of his face, his eyes had looked black as his hair. He was a vampire, coming for my blood. I remembered stretching out my neck, offering it to him, as he moved over me. The symbolism wasn't lost to him. His teeth came down, biting me hard enough to break the break the skin to distract me from the pain of being entered.

I had loved him for taking me like that, manipulating my body to make it easier for him. I ignored the difficulty I had in breathing arched backward that way just for the pleasure of watching him move against me. His eyes closed, their black shine hidden from me. With his face shadowed in the darkness, he had never seemed more beautiful.

I swore I could hear him breathe. It would have cost me my job if we were caught like that, but I didn't care. During the day I didn't have an identity without those letters behind my name, but there in the depths of the night with him, I didn't need them. I didn't need anything besides this man, inside me.

For him it must have been worse. I could only lose my career. If they discovered where Krycek went in the middle of the night, it would cost him his life.

His emotions were closed off to me. I knew why I wanted him; I hadn't a clue why he came to me. I wanted it to be more than just the sex. In our silent world that needed even our grunts to be muffled, we had created something. Krycek could pay with his life for this time together.

I knew he wanted to be caught. By me, by them...it probably didn't make a difference to him. I was his preferred method of suicide. I opened my mouth to speak to him, but changed my mind. That would change things, and Krycek held onto his rules. There would be no talking, no thinking, and more importantly, no emotions.

Finally he stepped forward. He had never watched me for so long before. I had begun to think he wasn't going to join me. This time he didn't even stand by my bed. In the same heartbeat that I became aware of his tangible existence, he was in the bed, pressed against me. He kissed me, and I hid my surprise by parting my lips and accepting his hard tongue. His tongue angrily worked against mine, and I met him out of self-defense. I touched his body and it shook under my fingers. He was angry about something. I would have asked him what it was, but he had already pulled out the lube. Foreplay wasn't offered and I probably wouldn't have accepted it if he had. It was pointless. He was hard, and I had been hurting since the moment I sensed him in the room.

Two slick fingers pressed into me. I threw my head back, the groan escaped me before I could clamp my hand over my mouth. The sound in the silent room echoed, and for a moment Krycek pulled back. I wanted to apologize for breaking the rules, but that would be committing a greater sin. I lay back down in the bed instead, and opened my legs for him to take me and almost prayed again.

Krycek withdrew his fingers and I almost moaned, turning my face to the wall. I didn't want to watch him get off the bed to leave me. Then I heard the zipper undo.

He grabbed my hips, one hand warm, the other cold, and pulled me to him. I glanced at him, but the room was too dark to see anything but the whites of his eyes as he shifted to a better angle. My right hand was less than two feet from the bedside lamp, and I fought the urge to turn it on and blast Krycek with the light. I wondered if he would vanish under the harsh yellow light, or just melt into mist and float away.

Either way he would have left me, so I knotted my fingers behind my head and waited for Krycek to do something else besides press against me.

He slowly pushed inside me. I opened slowly for him, and he moved against me, inch by inch, until I felt his upper thighs rest against my ass. He was in all the way, and I had to bring my pillow to my face so I could moan into it. His breathing filled the room, rough and ragged as if his entire throat was dry. He stayed frozen over me for a single heartbeat, then two, then four, and pressed his forehead against mine. He kissed me again, only this time didn't try to enter me with his tongue. He reared up, still dressed in his leather jacket and his jeans down to his thighs, and pushed me away from him. The fingers of his false arm would leave much darker marks than his real hand, but at that moment I didn't care. I thrashed against him, pulling the pillow back so I could bite down on something. Clenching my jaw against something intensified the pleasure, but it meant I couldn't see his face as he fucked me. I threw the pillow across the room and grunted as Krycek slammed against me again.

No matter how long it lasted, it was never enough. I tried to fight the flowing feeling that passed over me, counted backwards, remembered basketball stats, but nothing stopped the impending orgasm. I wanted to sob out, to beg him not to touch me there, not to look at me like that, and not to find that particular angle so it could go on all night, but his face was a concentrated study. This was what he came here for.

He was so quiet. Occasionally I heard his breath catch in his throat as he breathed too heavily, but even coming was silent for him. He pressed against me one last time and froze, shuddering. His entire body curled up around me, and at the exact moment of coming, he squeezed the head of my cock, hard enough to really hurt.

It was enough for me. I was gone, trying to keep control of my sounds even during orgasm.

I sobbed; I remember that. I might even have whispered his name as he held me to the last shudder.

I realized a moment too late that I was falling asleep. I tried to shrug it off, but I was gone the next breath.

I woke to the scream. Krycek's body thrashed against me, and I winced as his fingernails dug into my flesh. Before I could turn around and wake him up, he sat up and swung his legs to the floor. His entire body shuddered, as I pressed against him, holding him to me, but he pulled away.

"Don't," he said, simply.

I was shocked. It was the first time he had spoken to me in months. The alarm clock told me how early it was, "Krycek--" I began.

"I said don't," Krycek repeated, standing up. He had stripped down some time after the sex, and he picked up his arm. "You don't want to know."

"You don't know that," I said, sitting up. Krycek stared at me, and the pre-dawn light through the window was enough to see his mouth tighten and his eyes narrow. The adrenaline flushed through my system as the old-time fear and hatred of this man came back to me. The dawn was here, the night broken, and Krycek could be hated and reviled again.

He looked away and strapped on his false arm. He could have used my help but I didn't offer it. I watched as he carefully pulled on his shirt and then bent over to put on his jeans. I couldn't stand to be ignored any longer, not during the morning at least. I grabbed his shoulder, feeling the straps under my hand. Krycek batted my hand away, and I grabbed his wrist.

We stared at each other for a long moment as the pre-dawn light trickled in. Then he smiled at me with a leer that cut. Before I gave in to the need to beat the shit out of him, I remembered how much I had wanted him less than four hours ago.

I let him go and he was gone, leaving me to feel my battered muscles ache once the rush ended. As usual I didn't try to call him back. Krycek spun his web and I fell into it, each and every time. If I understood him I probably wouldn't need him at all.

Building a Mystery  
Building a Mystery

[you come out at night  
that's when the energy comes  
and the dark side's light  
and the vampires roam]  
you strut your rasta wear  
and your suicide poem  
and a cross from a faith  
that died before Jesus came  
you're building a mystery

you live in a church  
where you sleep with voodoo dolls  
and you won't give up the search  
for the ghosts in the halls  
you wear sandals in the snow  
and a smile that won't wash away  
can you look out the window  
without your shadow getting in the way  
[[oh you're so beautiful  
with an edge and a charm  
but so careful  
when I'm in your arms]]

CHORUS

'cause you're working  
building a mystery  
holding on and holding it in  
yeah you're working  
building a mystery  
and choosing so carefully

[[you woke up screaming aloud  
a prayer from your secret god  
you feed off our fears  
and hold back your tears]]

give us a tantrum  
and a know it all grin  
just when we need one  
when the evening's thin

[[oh you're a beautiful  
a beautiful fucked up man  
you're setting up your  
razor wire shrine]]  
tremendous images of Mulder, more than Krycek, to me>>

CHORUS

CHORUS


End file.
